


All She Had

by UltimateFandomTrash



Series: All She Had [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, I actually do really like Rowena, Lucifer has zero chill, Takes place in season 12, though this story will make you think otherwise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 19:55:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11813088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/UltimateFandomTrash
Summary: Rowena encounters an old enemy, someone she thought could never hurt her again, and what he has planned might just be enough to break her.





	All She Had

**Author's Note:**

> I don't condone _any_ of Lucifer's actions. This is a work of fiction. If you don't like it, don't read it.
> 
> Written for a request on tumblr.

Things had been surprisingly quiet since Rowena had dealt out her revenge on Crowley a few months back. She’d waited over a year and a half to hurt him like he’d hurt her, but as the time passed, the desire to do so had lessened rather than strengthened. But the Winchesters’ case involving ghosts, her grandson Gavin MacLeod, and _The Star_ had been too good an opportunity to pass up. On the Winchesters’ end her actions had appeared to be righteous, and on Crowley’s end it had surely felt like a knife being stabbed into his heart and then twisted mercilessly. That’s how it’d felt to her when she’d been forced to kill Oskar, one of the only people she had allowed herself to care about in her long life after being betrayed by Crowley’s father. She’d been forced to rip out her own heart and crush it, and in sending Gavin back to die aboard _The Star_ she assumed she’d done the same to Crowley. But she hadn’t wanted to. At that point, fulfilling her past wish of revenge was all she had succeeded in, of keeping a promise she’d made to herself. And Rowena did her best to ignore the pain in her chest she’d felt from wounding her son in such a way. She ignored it because she couldn’t afford to care about him, and she ignored it because she didn’t want to fall into a pit of despair. But in a way, she was used to that pit, used to its unforgiving darkness, used to its harsh grip, used to the way it tugged at her.

A few years ago Rowena might have staved off the shadows inside her by seeking power. Power had once seemed like a glowing, comforting refuge. But now, that power was a petty want. What use was there in ruling others if doing so offered nothing in return? She had used to scrabble for it out of fear, out of desperation, pretending she’d only done so out of boredom or sheer arrogance. She didn’t need that now. Rowena still wasn’t quite sure what made her happy. Earlier in the year, messing around with rich men had seemed to do the trick, but then she had only found herself trapped in situations that made her feel worse about herself. Helping Sam and Dean had been enjoyable, and had offered a sense of companionship, something that had long been foreign to her. 

Recently however, Rowena felt secure with her place in life. She was most likely the most powerful witch in the world. She’d bested Lucifer himself, even after he’d tried to make her his slave, _and_ she’d been able to send him back to the Cage. In doing so, it felt like a weight had been lifted off her. Maybe it was fear that she’d carried, but if it was she didn’t want to admit it. Any rational person would feel fear in Lucifer’s presence, but feeling unwanted emotions was a weakness that she couldn’t afford. Of course, she hadn’t feared him at first, being as naïve as she was. She’d learned since then, had suffered since then, and at the Devil’s hands. Knowing he couldn’t touch her again made life seem much more simple, not as dark or treacherous.

Fear of him no longer lived within her. Something did, but no, it was not that awful, dreadful feeling that he would one day find her and hurt her again, or even succeed in killing her. Perhaps it was just the memory of her time with him. Sometimes it tried to take hold of her, but she didn’t allow it. In a sense, she ran from it. She ran from it just like she did all her emotions, pouring them into the magical effort of wearing expensive clothes, staying at lavish hotels, and eating at fancy restaurants without paying a single penny. She did what she’d learned to do to build up walls around herself, to shield her heart from being played with again.

It was at one of the many high end restaurants she’d been to in her life that that memory of the fallen archangel turned into fear once more. As she’d been enjoying a slice of ginger peach cake that probably cost somewhere around one-hundred dollars, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Energy unlike anything she’d felt from a human, or even from any angels or demons washed over her, causing her skin to tingle. It was an aura of power, tainted and twisted and grotesque and as sickening as black, oily smoke, but it shone in her mind’s eye as if it had once been a great source of light and good. The aura was resonating from across the restaurant, at one of the tables by the floor-to-ceiling windows that showed one of the many busy streets of New York City. Her stomach clenching with fear, Rowena looked up from her dessert. Her eyes met cold, blue ones filled with hunger, and malice more sharp and frigid than ice. With her breath caught in her throat, she took in the rest of what she had once thought was a handsome face, already knowing what she would find. The strong nose, deep-set eyes, broad forehead, blond hair, and scruff of beard was all too familiar to her from the times he’d visited her dreams, as were the pink lips that now turned up in a pleased and deceptively charming smile. It didn’t reach his eyes.

Lucifer waved at her from across the restaurant.

Rowena’s heart leapt up into her throat.

Her first instinct was to run, but it was as if her muscles had frozen, and she couldn’t draw her gaze away from him. No. That couldn’t be him. It just couldn’t be. She’d locked him away, far away in the deepest, darkest part of Hell. But somehow, there he was, and now he was walking over to her.

She swallowed roughly and was finally able to tear her gaze away from him, searching around for an escape. It did no good. The restaurant was busy, meaning there were too many obstacles she’d have to move around in order to try to make a run for it. The only other exit aside from the front door, which Lucifer had strategically placed behind himself, was probably through the kitchen, but it was too far away. She’d never make it in time.

The aura grew closer, _he_ grew closer, until he was sitting right across from her.

“Fancy seeing you here, Rowena,” he greeted once she turned back to him, his tone casual. It was as if he was speaking to an old friend rather than someone he clearly planned on hurting and maybe even killing.

“How?” she simply asked, not having the stomach to play any of his games.

He laughed. “How what? How did I find you? How am I here? How am I not in the Cage? How am I in this vessel?”

Rowena smoothed the skirt of the dress she wore, the deep red color now reminding her too much of blood. 

When she spoke her voice was surprisingly even, “Let’s start with how you’re not in the Cage, shall we?”

“Oh, that’s quite a story. How about you come with me and I’ll tell you all about it?”

Though his words sounded like a suggestion, Rowena knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer. She looked around again as she thought in vain of a way to get out of this. Yes, she was an all-powerful witch, but to do magic that could help her stand up to Lucifer, she required time and ingredients. Any of the spells that simply needed a few simple words said would never be enough. That’d be as useless as throwing stuffed animals at him.

“I think I’d rather stay here and finish my dessert,” she eventually answered, now focusing her attention on the unfinished slice of cake before her. It was funny to think that it’d been so appetizing to her just a minute ago, and now she felt like she couldn’t eat anything. But she forced herself to pick up her fork and continue eating it as if nothing was wrong. The sweet, robust flavors were now as tasteless as cardboard in her mouth. After chewing and swallowing she told him, “You should really think about ordering a slice of this cake. It’s delicious. Then again, I’m not sure you’d recognize fine taste even if it smacked you over the head.” She hadn’t meant to say that last part, but now she couldn’t quit talking. “I doubt you have the brain cells to appreciate nice things.”

“Now, now, don’t be rude,” he chided. “Our tastes just run a little different.”

A laugh left Rowena. “Oh yes, whereas you like to torture people I prefer to just kill them.”

“That’s probably where I went wrong with you.”

Though his words twisted her stomach Rowena did her best to ignore him and continue eating, but as she was about to lift another bite to her mouth he reached out and grabbed her wrist. His grip was tight, bruising, and the fork nearly fell from her hand.

“Come with me,” he ordered, his voice now dark. His blue eyes flashed red for just a second, a reminder as to who was sitting across from her.

Rowena attempted to wrench her wrist out of his grip, but it was no use. He held on tighter, and she swore she heard a tiny snap as pain exploded outwards, down to her hand and up through her arm. Her fingers went limp, and the fork fell back onto the plate with a clatter and an eerie scrape of metal against porcelain. That drew the attention of the people near her, but Lucifer covered up what he was doing by gently placing his other hand on top of hers, making it look like he was simply holding her hand endearingly like a lover might.

“Let go of me,” she hissed.

His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll shove my fork so far into your eye socket that it impales your brain and comes out the other side.”

“You don’t have the guts,” he challenged.

“I am many things, dear, but I am not a coward.”

“Then this is going to be so much more enjoyable.”

With that he let go of her. Just as Rowena was pulling her hand back to cradle it against her chest, the motion causing her wrist to throb, Lucifer snapped his fingers. Searing, fiery light flashed from within everyone in the restaurant. They didn’t even have time to scream as their insides burned and they dropped dead. A second passed and then the wretched smell of burned flesh slammed into her, causing her to gag.

The sudden display of the Devil’s power caused fear - raw and wild and cold - to flood her so quickly that it hurt. Her heart began to beat wildly in her chest, pounding against her ribcage so incessantly it was like it was trying to burst out of her and flee. There was no time for her to feel saddened by the unnecessary death that she now sat in the middle of. Maybe a few years ago she wouldn’t have cared about all the people Lucifer had just killed, but working with the Winchesters had changed her. Later, she knew that it would surely hurt just as much as her wrist did - the memory of the dead men and women and children that lay around her, smoke rising from their bodies.

“Ready to cooperate?” Lucifer asked.

“Where do you plan on taking me?” she snapped, surprised that terror hadn’t stolen her voice. “The way I see it you can just kill me right here.”

Lucifer reached across the table, and Rowena tried to lean away from him. That didn’t stop him from drawing closer and he cupped her cheek in his hand. A shiver ran through her from the Devil’s touch, and then her body decided that it didn’t want to stop shaking.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked her. 

And then he moved his hand into her hair and grabbed hold of it, drawing her up as he stood. Rowena cried out at the stinging pain that assaulted her scalp, and she scraped at his hand with her right one. It did no use. He only traded his grip on her hair to hold onto the back of her neck, his fingers pressing bruises into her flesh.

“Let go of me!” she cried, attempting to wrench herself away from him.

He simply wrapped his arm around her, and pulled her much too close to him, forcing her head back so she could look up at him. His eyes were glowing red, and Rowena suddenly felt very small compared to him. Her mouth went dry, and he smiled.

Then there was a rushing sound, a feeling of weightlessness, colors flashing before her eyes so quickly that bile rose up in her throat and her head spun. And then they were no longer in the restaurant. They were in her hotel room. She’d been staying there for at least a week, so the cream colored walls, polished mahogany furniture, and golden and white bedspread were unmistakable. 

And then it really hit her. 

_They were in her hotel room._

Lucifer had known where she was staying. Oh dear lord, he’d been watching her, no doubt planning this whole thing out.

Lucifer released her and she fell at his feet, swallowing roughly and trying to not puke. Falling put weight on her left wrist, which she suspected was broken, and with a wordless shout she collapsed onto her side. She shuddered and coughed, the beginning of her body throwing up, her throat burning. But she forced it down, and closed her eyes, trying to take deep breaths. That wasn’t exactly easy at the moment given that Satan himself was standing beside her.

“Nice room,” he commented, turning around to take it in. “It just screams _Rowena_. I can see why you picked this hotel.” Then, he spun around to face her again. “Now, to business.”

He grabbed her hair and tugged her to her feet. Before Rowena could even scream his hand was around her throat. And then there was an abysmal pressure that made her fear he was going to crush her windpipe, and next thing she knew she was flying through the air. She smacked into the carved bedpost, what little breath she had leaving her. Electricity seemed to flash through her spine, and then it turned into a dull throb as she collapsed to the floor. Before she could get a proper breath in, Lucifer was already there, driving his foot into her stomach. A strangled, undignified grunt left her, and he kicked her again. This time the thud of impact was accompanied with a sharp snap, and a deep ache spread through her nerves, emanating from one of her ribs. Tears welled up in her vision, and began to roll down her face.

Desperately, Rowena reached out a hand, opening her mouth to shout out an incantation that would at least push him back from her so she could get a second or two of relief. But before she could do so, a force was lifting her up and into the air, and she could feel the manipulation of energy around her.

Rowena fought against Lucifer’s will with her own, but that was about as effective as punching a brick wall in the hopes that it’d crumble. And it hurt too, like a hammer had been tapped against the inside of her skull. A whimper left her as she dangled in the air before Lucifer, his hand outstretched to keep her there. 

“Do you know why I’m doing this to you, Rowena?” he asked, his voice terribly controlled, but low, and filled with anger. “It’s because you’re powerful. You’re dangerous. I know that now. _You_ are the _one person_ who can put me back in the Cage, and I can’t have that. I’m _never_ going back there, you understand?! Never!”

Rowena wasn’t exactly sure why, but she started laughing, and not even the agony from her broken rib could stop her. Lucifer frowned and tilted his head slightly in confusion.

“What?” he asked irritably.

“I can’t… believe this,” she got out. “The big bad Devil is scared of me.” She continued laughing. What was that thing people said about wild animals? They’re more scared of you than you are of them? That’s what was so funny about this. Lucifer was the wild animal.

“Enough!” he shouted, reaching out and slapping her across the face. 

Rowena’s head flung to the side so suddenly that her muscles screamed in protest. Her right cheek stung, and then she felt the liquid heat of blood running down across her skin. That shut her up, and now breathy sounds left her that might have been terrified sobs, but no tears came.

Lucifer curled his hand towards himself in something akin to a beckoning motion and she floated over to him. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as their eyes met again. Yes, he was a wild animal. And he was about to attack.

“Just remember, you deserve _everything_ I’m going to do to you,” he informed her. His voice was now low, hungry, and her insides turned to liquid. His gaze upon her was so intent she swore he was going to burn a hole through her. He leaned close, and whispered into her ear, his breath brushing over her skin, “I’m going to make you my bitch.”

Lucifer shoved at the air and she went flying backwards to land on the bed. She bounced a little, crying out as the motion jarred her injured body. Rowena just wanted to lay there and never get up again. She knew that her torment was just beginning, yet she already had a long list of hurts, and she didn’t even want to think about what his words possibly meant. But she knew. And she found the strength to lift herself off the bed to try and run, not currently caring that it was useless. She had to indulge her instincts.

Rowena barely made it three steps before Lucifer was in front of her. He made a grab at her as she tried going around him, but Rowena dodged. The movement put stress on her broken rib, and there was a sharp pain as it pressed against something inside of her. She nearly collapsed again, but no, she couldn’t. She had to get away. She just had to. 

Lucifer wrapped his arms around her and she kneed him in the crotch with so much force that a normal human man would’ve probably been incapacitated for at least five minutes. It barely did anything to the Devil. He simply grunted, his knees buckling slightly from the pain. Or so Rowena had thought. But he dropped down, threw her over his shoulder and straightened.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as he wrapped his arm securely around her, exerting pressure on her throbbing back and broken rib. The pain was deep, acute, and she couldn’t even breathe. 

Rational thought left her and she began to smack him with her right hand, her fingers balled up into a fist. It did nothing and Lucifer threw her back down onto the bed. And this time he held her there with his powers.

Rowena physically and mentally struggled against him, the ache in her head increasing and spreading, now taking root behind her eyes. She screamed at him, screamed her terror, her pain, her fury. And the bastard smiled.

“Let me go!”

He chuckled. “Is that all you got? I expected something more witty from you.”

“Okay,” she growled out. “Let me go this instant and I won’t take out your organs and arrange them from smallest to largest, starting with your cock.”

Another laugh. “I think you’ll find that’s not as small as you hope.”

“Fine! I’ll start with your brain then!”

“Aw, you’re cute when you’re desperate.”

“Lucifer!” she screeched as he slowly approached the bed, his stride confident. “Don’t do this!”

He rolled his eyes. “Now you just sound like the rest of them,” he told her, getting onto the bed and kneeling by her feet. “Come on, I thought you were more original than that.”

“Fuck off, you lily-livered, scrote licking pansy.”

“There we go.”

And then he slipped her shoes off before grabbing hold of her right foot. She began to shake, her body seemingly picking up on what was going to happen before her mind did. One hand went one way and the other went in the opposite direction. A loud series of cracks met her ears, and when Lucifer released her foot her stomach lurched violently. Her foot wasn’t supposed to look like that, with the top half pointing horizontally towards the far wall and the lower half still at an upwards angle. Bones, broken and mangled, poked through her skin, and she saw the white of them just before blood welled out in a fierce torrent. And then the pain hit.

Rowena had been through many things in her life, and she’d undergone torture a few times, but nothing like this. She had never been tormented for the sheer fun of it. That’s what it was. Though Lucifer claimed this was a necessity, he was definitely having fun with it. And she could tell because never before had she felt anything quite like this.

Excruciating and heart stopping agony took hold of her, burrowing its way into her foot with hammers and pickaxes, drilling through her skin, her muscles, her nerves, her bones. All her other injuries seemed to pale in comparison to that terrible deep, mind numbing ache. And then the next thing she was aware of was that she was cold. She was so cold that her battered body tensed up rather than shaking. It was as if her very life force was leaving her. 

The Devil’s will on her left, no longer holding her down, as an ugly sound crawled its way out from the back of her throat. The sound that came from her was like that of a wounded animal, alone and scared, hanging on to the last vestige of life as death tried to claim it, and it was broken up by her harsh, stuttered breathing.

There was nothing she could do, or even hope to do, as Lucifer lifted up the skirt of her dress. There was no false pretense of romance in the action. He was going to take her. She could see it in his eyes, had known since he’d said he was going to make her his bitch. Hell, she’d had her suspicions since she’d first seen him in the restaurant. That seemed so long ago, but it probably had only been ten minutes.

Ten minutes and Lucifer had turned her life into a living hell. Ten minutes and he’d already broken her body. Ten minutes and he was already going to steal her dignity from her and tear her apart in a terrifyingly intimate way. 

A part of her told her that this was inevitable. Before when he’d had her captured he had casually touched her body as if it belonged to him, but he’d never taken that next step. And now he was going to. 

Her vision blurred with tears, the pain in her body and the knowledge in her mind doing her in. A sob climbed up out of her chest as he raised her dress even higher and ripped at her tights and panties. He straddled her, leaning against her, and she could feel his erection, still confined in his jeans, rubbing against her now-exposed skin.

The thought that he was getting off on hurting her made a wave of nauseating heat travel through her, combatting the life-stealing cold in her body. She began to sweat, and then powerful shudders ran through her.

“P-p-please… do-don’t!” she cried out, somehow finding her voice.

“Hmm, let me think about it.” He paused for a few seconds, pretending to do just that, and then he said, “No, I’m definitely gonna rape you.”

A scream left her at his words, and she was almost thankful for it because she never heard the sound of him unzipping his jeans.

She bucked against him in a vain attempt to escape, but he held her down with one hand firmly pressed to her stomach. The other was no doubt busy guiding his hardened cock to her entrance. Rowena had to fight with herself to squeeze her eyes shut. On the one hand, she didn’t want to see what the Devil was now going to use to assault her, but on the other, natural human curiosity urged her to. 

_No. I won’t look. I won’t. I won’t. I won’t._

And she didn’t. 

A new kind of agony took over her world, and the implications of it made it hurt more than her ruined foot. For a bare second she’d felt him against her, hard and fleshy and unnaturally cold, and then he was in her. And he didn’t need to struggle or thrust in and out a few times to fully sheath himself inside of her. Lucifer was much, _much_ stronger than a human being. One hard thrust of his hips was all it took for him to fully penetrate her. And oh, how it _hurt_. The quick, forceful motion had torn her inside, had bruised muscles, and the deep soreness traveling up her spine told her that he’d even managed force his way past her cervix. Burning and stabbing and tearing and bruising.

A scream left her at the same time the Devil let out a deep groan. Entering her so quickly must have hurt him too, but he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it. 

And then the thrusts began. Each movement felt like she was being torn apart, like a knife was being stabbed into her over and over again. His thrusts soon became easier and Rowena knew why; he was slick with her blood. Despite the absolute torture of the relentless pounding of him against her and delving into her, her body became confused; delicious, unwanted, searing heat pooling in her stomach and pelvis. Her body was alight with sensation. She felt so much she feared she might die from it. The human body simply wasn’t meant to feel this much at once. In this moment, it no longer mattered how powerful of a witch she was. She was truly and utterly human, and humans could be broken.

That’s what she was.

Broken.

She lost track of time, each second feeling like an eternity. She might have even passed out at one point, but Lucifer was still driving into her with powerful, sickening force, and he’d even ripped apart her dress to get at the rest of her body.

To think that she had once wanted to rule beside him.

To think that she had once believed herself an exemption to all his evils.

This was why he was the Devil. Rowena knew she wasn’t the first victim to befall his acts of pure evil and she wouldn’t be the last. And Lucifer enjoyed it. It was difficult to ignore the fact that he did. His voice leaked into his breaths, deep and gravelly and predatory. His hands ran over her abused body, clawing and squeezing. His mouth quested over her skin as if it belonged to him. As if _she_ belonged to him.

Rowena lost count of how many times he’d bitten and sucked at her with so much force that he’d broken her skin. All she knew was that she hurt and that she wanted to die.

She’d never wanted to die before; not even when she’d given birth to Fergus, all alone and half-dead.

Or maybe death wasn’t what she craved and called out for. Maybe what she truly desired, more than anything, was to stop existing. If this was her life, her existence, why should she have it? Why should she want it?

If only she’d never been born.

If all of her life had led to this then she didn’t want it. She didn’t want her thoughts or her feelings or sensation. She didn’t even want her memories. For all she cared even the few happy ones she’d had could burn up, their ashes drifting away on the wind. 

Nothingness would be bliss.

Rowena’s exhausted and strained body climaxed against her will when Lucifer sucked on her hardened left nipple, his tongue lapping out and his teeth grazing it. The way her torn and bruised insides clenched around him, seemingly begging for more torment made her tears come again. Odd, she thought she didn’t have any tears left.

Lucifer opened his mouth wider and bit down on her flesh, a loud moan of pleasure leaving him. His thrusts became erratic, and her aching and screaming body jerked against his, but as an attempt to escape or to seek more pleasure, she didn’t know. 

And then he finally came undone, his teeth digging into her breast and his hands gripping her hips so tightly electric-like sparks shot through her, alerting her to more fractures. He buried himself deep insider her, his hips pressed up against her, as he emptied his unnaturally cold seed into her, mixing with her blood. Rowena was overwhelmed with sensation, and the fact that she could feel his cock throbbing within her was just too much. 

Blackness took her.

She drifted in a sea of blood, boiling hot and ice cold at the same time. And it was filled with stones that stormy waves hurled at her. They hit her, they broke her, they tore her. When she fell beneath the waves, too tired to go on, she woke up, gasping wildly in panic.

She expected the heavy, overpowering presence of Lucifer, but he was gone. Had he meant to leave her alive? Had he thought she was dead? 

Rowena didn’t know, but she hurt so much she didn’t even feel relieved that he was gone. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t there anymore. The damage he’d caused still was. Her stomach churned when she felt some of his cum dripping out of her. She was still bleeding from her injuries, most heavily from her foot, but it sadly took more than that to kill her.

She hated being a witch. If she wasn’t she would surely be dead already. It was so unfair. Why couldn’t she just die?

Rowena felt a strange sensation on her chest, and she picked up the pieces of her mind and put them together just enough to look down. There was a piece of paper lying in between her breasts, taken from the hotel stationery. With a trembling hand, she lifted it up to see what was on it.

In a scrawling hand were the words:

 

_Dearest Rowena, I’m only leaving you alive because I know you won’t ever wrong me again._

_-Lucifer_

_P.S. Breaking you was the most fun I’ve had in years. Thank you._

 

She somehow found strength to crumple up the note and toss it aside. And she cried. It was a wonder no one had come to her rescue. But then she remembered… no one could have known she was being tortured. She’d put up a magical sound barrier for privacy.

And she regretted it because no one would help her, not until the cleaning lady would come by tomorrow morning. And Rowena didn’t want anyone to see her like this. 

Lucifer was right. 

She was broken.

So when Rowena started crying, she didn’t even care. Not existing wasn’t an option, and death wouldn’t come to her, so for now, crying was all she could do. It was all she had.


End file.
